


regrets

by delightisadream



Category: Lab Rats: Elite Force (TV)
Genre: F/M, POV Second Person, Present Tense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-06
Updated: 2016-07-06
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:14:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23384344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/delightisadream/pseuds/delightisadream
Summary: don't let this be one of them.[i'm out here cross-posting again.]
Relationships: Bree Davenport/Oliver (background), Kaz/Skylar Storm
Kudos: 4





	regrets

You really don’t know when it began.

You don’t think it started when you met, when he hit on you right after embarrassing himself and you walked away. It probably wasn’t when he tricked you into a fake date and subsequently ruined your first dance. Somehow you doubt it happened as you were forced to carry him on your mission to save Oliver from Megahertz. You can’t pinpoint the single moment you felt the spark the first time, but for the longest time it was in every little glance he threw your way.

Mighty Med served as a way for you to get acquainted. It’s hard to believe he once used to be a normo, that there was a time you were all powerless, a time where Horace and Alan were still alive. A better time, maybe, but that time has come and gone.

Sometimes you miss being “Connie Valentine.” You miss Gus every now and then, you miss following Oliver’s mother with your two best friends, and you definitely  _ don’t _ miss Stefanie. You miss high school, a time where boys who were assumed to be even less than a friend gave you  _ S _ word of the day calendars, when you caught them singing, when you apologized for saying nice things about each other, when you pinned them up against lockers.

You miss it, now that you know how you’re feeling. And you hate it. You hate how long it took for you to realize, how much time you wasted – and how much you can’t tell him.

* * *

You start to realize how much physical contact you used to make when it stops.

But that was back when you were teamed up more, when it was a two to one ratio instead of all three plus two. It’s another testament to how much things have changed, and you’re not sure why it’s such a big deal, but somewhere in the back of your mind you promise to balance the scale out.

You grab his wrist when his brother visits and remind him of the Superhero Code. You try not to take notice of how upset he is, how all he wants is his brother to like him more than Chase. And you try, you try  _ really hard,  _ to show you know how it’s affecting him and that you wish it could be different as you tell him no and apologize in less than five words.

The day ends with a lie as he lets Kyle believe he’s bionic. You’re impressed, really, at how genius the cover-up is and you want to tell him that. But you don’t. You settle for telling the rest of the group as he escorts his brother out of the penthouse later that week, and find yourself wondering if he ever says nice things about you when you’re not around. You doubt it, but you want it to be true.

* * *

You yearn to reconnect, but settling for a lesson in power is better than nothing.

You’d like to believe even if you hadn’t inadvertently showed Chase up that he’d ask you for help with his powers, but you know it’s probably not true. The lesson goes surprisingly well, and you can’t help but take note how his eyebrows scrunch up when he’s trying to perfect a fireball, or how his face lights up when he hits all six targets on the first try. You attempt to block out the noise rushing into your ears and the feeling of weightlessness as he lifts you up in his arms at the end of the session, comically excited about his progress.

It still hurts when he hurriedly puts you down and doubles the distance between you two, heading upstairs rather quickly. You glance around the room and make sure you understand how ridiculous it is that his touch makes you feel so much more alive, how stupid it is to act like a little kid on Christmas day when he throws no more than a two second smile at you, and you do. You know it’s dumb, you know it’s stupid – and you also know you feel really happy whenever it happens. It’s dangerous, that much is being imprinted in your mind. No one but you should have this big of a handle over your happiness, especially when they don’t even know how they affect you.

Too bad you have no  _ clue _ how to control it.

* * *

You feel bad. Like,  _ really _ bad.

It’s late at night when you hear the front door slam and yelling coming from downstairs. You can pick out your two best friends’ voices immediately, and know you should get down there to help sort things out between them. You end up taking longer than you originally meant to check your outfit in the mirror and frown when you’re not happy with it. 

You turn around just as your doorknob does and he comes in, anger making his face a little less cute. You’re about to ask what’s wrong when he actually looks at you and slowly, the anger fades from his face, and suddenly it doesn’t matter what you’re wearing. It’s just you and him as he smiles at you.

He tells you that Oliver’s favorite athlete, Clutch, chose him as his spotter, and you’re happy for him. You don’t think twice as you pull him in for a hug, both of you buzzing with electricity when you pull apart. The grin you wear on your face only grows wider when he tells both Chase and Bree the good news as they appear outside in the hallway. It’s equal parts happiness for him and giddiness at being the first to know and congratulate him.

But later that night you see Oliver, and realize he’s not taking this well. You decide against lending him a comforting hand; and subsequently feel like a terrible friend. You try to convince yourself you’re justified in being happy for Kaz; after all, Oliver was chosen as Tecton’s sidekick over him, and this is just a reverse situation. Even so, you can’t help but wonder if you’d feel the same if your brain didn’t keep replaying the way Kaz looked at you before telling you the news.

Your feelings are weighing you down, and you don’t know how to fix it.

* * *

You get a small hint of what life would be like if he felt the same way.

It happens when you reunite with your sisters. You’re nearly identical, but having spent so much time on Earth it’s slightly uncomfortable on Caldera. You find yourself so caught up in the festivities and nostalgic stories that you nearly miss it. But there it is, a few feet behind you as Bree mumbles, “You’re right, Kaz. All girls on Caldera  _ are _ beautiful, friendly, and incredibly violent.”

You hear him stumbling for words, and your heart beats uncontrollably. You’re thankful your back is to him, because if you were facing him you’re not sure how you would react. It’s a safe bet you’d be expected to tease him, but by this point it’s more likely you’d either smash his ribcage in a hug or smother him with kisses, both being inappropriate, so you don’t do a thing. You let on you never heard the snide remark.

But  _ oh, _ you’re not going to forget anytime soon. Not by a long shot.

* * *

You’re beginning to believe the universe thinks you can never be too happy.

Oliver seems to finally have given up on you. Admittedly, you wondered for a little bit what it would be like to be with him, but eventually abandoned the idea. It was becoming rather clear he didn’t like you so much as he liked who he  _ thought _ you were. One prominent sign was when you broke plenty of Bree’s stuff and he showed no mercy in describing that person, only to immediately go back on his words when it was revealed to be you. Oliver is a great guy who deserves to think whatever he wants without editing just for you, especially when you never asked.

You don’t know what prompted him to move on, but you know when he does. He announces he has a date one morning at breakfast. After a quick round of jokes, you give him a genuine smile and say you’re happy for him. He appears elated and not the least bit sad, so you have no issue believing this is real and not some stupid jealousy plan.

You and Bree help pick out an outfit for the movie date, fix up his hair, pack him some breath mints, and give him a curfew for good measure. You’re all set to send him off and you’re excited, because he’s going to be happy and you’re already happy because now you don’t have to worry about him pining after you.

That’s when the door opens and his date, Jessica, apologizes for not warning him but brings her friend Amelia inside anyway. They quickly set up a double date and Oliver grabs Kaz as he walks by, making your heart clench. It’s inevitable, you know, but it still bothers you as he goes out the door. You notice Bree exchanging looks with Chase when he appears, and even though it’ll only be more obvious, you excuse yourself back upstairs to your room where you stay the rest of the night.

That doesn’t mean you don’t hear the boys arrive back home around eleven. That doesn’t mean you didn’t check when the movie would let out earlier that day and know they spent two extra hours with their dates. That doesn’t mean you don’t hear Oliver tell Kaz he has lipstick on his face, or that you don’t avoid Bree’s eyes in the dark room when she comes to bed a few minutes later. You suppress the urge to shove your head under a pillow and scream until it breaks into cries.

You’re not sure, but if the universe truly wanted you to be happy, then Oliver would’ve went on his date alone and Kaz never would have left the house that night, but he didn’t and Kaz did. And it doesn’t.

* * *

Sometimes you’re just not sure what to believe.

The day following their double date was a Saturday, the only day the Elite Force doesn’t eat breakfast together as you all tend to wake up at different times following Friday’s events. You think you’re the first one awake until you reach the kitchen and pull waffles out of the freezer just before he announces his presence.

It takes less than ten seconds to ask why he’s up, twenty seconds to explain he couldn’t sleep and came down awhile ago to play video games, and another ten for him to challenge you to a game.

I was making waffles, you say.

I have PopTarts, he counters.

You put on a show of reluctantly placing the waffles back in the freezer and grabbing a controller, settling in on the couch beside him but leaving space between you two. All he does is grin and start the game, and soon all boundaries are thrown out the window as you each try to block the other’s vision, cheating in the least subtle way ever. You try to argue your way to a PopTart break, but that ends with him tossing you small bits as if they were popcorn and your mind wanders to the night before. Did he throw popcorn to Amelia, his date?

Your change in demeanor must show because he stops and asks you if you’re okay. You assure him you’re fine and continue the game, catching him sneaking peaks at you every now and then. You have a feeling you know why he’s doing this. He’s trying to make up for the night before, but that doesn’t really make sense. Unless…no. That’s impossible.

You won’t let yourself hope.

* * *

Saturday morning video game matches become a thing, and it doesn’t take long for the others to notice.

Oliver makes a few jokes about Chase being unable to beat Kaz at a game and he takes that hit a little too close to home, asking you to trade places with him. You don’t doubt Bree put them up to it, to see how you’d react to being booted out. But you take it like a champ, climbing out of your comfortable position and handing Chase your controller, only noticing how close to Kaz you were when Chase is so far away from Kaz himself.

He’s been beating you at the game, you think, urging yourself to believe you need payback. You end up behind the couch and lean forward until your hands cover his eyes, taunting his skills. He tries to swat your hands away, and when that doesn’t work he keeps hold of the controller with one hand and the other finds your wrist, pulling you forward until your hands slip away and you’re staring into his eyes. He tells you playing dirty is not cool but the smile tugging at the corner of his lips says otherwise.

You grin back and don’t even try to come up with a clever retort. Yes it is, you tell him.

No it isn’t, he says again, eyes locked onto yours.

And you fully take notice of how close you are to him, how one hand is draped around his shoulders and the other on his chest. You realize Chase stopped the game and is giving you a look close to that of a reprimanding teacher’s. You don’t seek Bree or Oliver’s expressions but slowly lift your body away from Kaz’s and watch as his head swivels to follow you, asking where you’re going.

You’re playing Chase, you tell him, trying not to appear as distant as you are.

You never knew how close you were getting until you almost went too far.

* * *

You have civil conversation but make an active effort to talk to him from a normal distance.

Once again, the boundaries go out the window one afternoon. You’re hoping the fridge has Hawaiian Punch as you go down the stairs right before he flies up them, gripping you by the shoulders and shushing you when you ask what’s going on. With a glance over his shoulder, he keeps one hand on your elbow and the other on the railing as he silently leads you back up the stairs.

He doesn’t answer any of your quiet questions in the hallway and instead pushes you into his room, where Chase looks up from the book he’s reading on his bed. It’s now Kaz tells you both that Bree and Oliver are eating each other’s faces in the living room. Chase isn’t as shocked at you are, going back to his book after a moment of recognition. You blink and feel relieved that’s what he wanted to tell you, before it sets in and you slap his arm and he jumps.

He asks you what you did that for. You don’t even point out his childish reaction but instead jump right in to how he made you believe something was wrong downstairs, that something had gone bad, that they were in  _ danger. _ He waves away the worries and tells you what you already know, that that’s not what was going on. One look at your face and he apologizes for making you upset.

I’m not upset, okay, I was just scared, you tell him.

The ‘for you’ at the end of the sentence is left off but he hears it loud and clear anyway.

Neither of you speak about the incident anymore that night. You end up falling asleep on the floor with him, Chase close by after a few card games while you all attempt to block out any and all noise coming from downstairs. 

You wake up around six and blink in the dimly lit room, wondering what made you conscious until you hear the bathroom door close. The space on the floor next to you is empty and you sit up, groping around for your phone. As soon as the screen lights up, you see Chase looking at you as if you’re under a microscope.

You don’t even need to ask him what he’s thinking before he says, “So I guess I’m the only one not involved with a member of the Force?”

You know you’re gaping because,  _ no,  _ he’s not, but at the same time he most certainly is. The toilet flushing brings you out of your thoughts and Chase looks away, apparently not expecting an answer. No words are said but Kaz lightly brushing against you as he settles back down brings about a whole new round of glances from the smartest man in the world.

* * *

It appears as if all the progress you’ve made doesn’t matter.

He starts going out. He dates other girls, seemingly  _ every _ girl except the two who reside under his own roof. You find yourself spending your nights down in the living room and watching the clock tick by until it’s early in the morning, wondering when you fell asleep. You don’t want to be up in your room with Bree who might have Oliver with her, you don’t want to be just across the hall from him, you don’t want to hear his adorable snores, and you most certainly do  _ not _ want to see him in his boxers and a T-shirt with wonderful bedhead.

He never brought a girl home before, but he does one night. You pass them as you’re heading down the stairs and you know you made the right choice by getting out of your room. It’s not until three more members of the Elite Force end up surrounding you on the couch that you realize he brought a girl  _ home _ , that there’s a reason your mutual friends came downstairs, and that no one in the penthouse is actually going to sleep.

And a whole new feeling arises, and you feel like throwing up.

* * *

You contemplate dating just as much as he does, but ultimately you know it won’t make you feel better.

You’re not even sure what happened. One day you’re so close you can’t tell where your body heat ends and his begins, and the next he’s off doing God-knows-what with everyone but you. You’re feeling hurt, and you’re fairly certain you have a reason to be, but feeling justified in your thoughts alone isn’t helping.

It’s a rare night when you’re actually upstairs in your room, which is only because Bree promised she wouldn’t be back with Oliver until around one and they’d go to their own beds. She sensed your discomfort with the recent events, and although she couldn’t control most, she could control this. Still, being holed up in your room for several hours is boring, and, worse, it allows your mind to wander.

You want to know why things changed. He’s not even pushing you away, he’s pushing  _ himself _ away and you don’t understand what triggered it.

So you get up. You keep the hallway light off so as not to alert Chase you’re up. You don’t even know what time it is, or how you know he’ll be in the kitchen, but you go downstairs anyway. At the bottom step you notice him at the same moment he notices you, and you have a feeling he knows he can’t escape this conversation. He turns to put away the pitcher of lemonade and face you again, a cup in his hands.

You’re both silent until you reach the island. “Late night snack?” you ask, running your hands over the countertop with your head bowed slightly.

You can feel his eyes on you. “Yeah, something like that.” There’s a pause before he opens up a tiny bit. “Couldn’t sleep.”

You think about whether this is a good idea or not, but either way you know you’re going through with it so you ask, “And why do you think that is?” in a slightly condescending tone.

He bends down a smidge to catch your eye. “Are you okay?”

You look up. “No. Okay? I’m not.” You don’t give him a chance to reply, but you move to the side of the island and lean against it. “I have a question, and I want an honest answer, alright?”

He gives the smallest of nods and you continue. “Where’d you go? Why’d you disappear on me?”

He’s not meeting your eye. “Skylar, I’m right here–”

“We’re  _ friends,  _ Kaz, and  _ friends _ don’t just quit talking to each other and randomly jump on everything without a flat chest.” It’s like word vomit. You’re faintly aware of what you’re saying and wholly aware of how much damage it could do. “It’s kind of  _ weird _ that would happen right as you avoid your  _ friend,  _ isn’t it?”

He’s looking at you like he isn’t sure if you’re actually saying these things. “Whoa,” he sets down his lemonade cup and puts his hands up, “I didn’t mean to stop talking to you, okay, that was unintentional–”

“And yet you knew it was happening?” Your vision is blurred the tiniest bit and you’re not sure whether you’re angry or upset. “I notice you didn’t do this to all of your  _ friends,  _ Kaz, more like just me–”

He moves out from behind the counter a step. “Can you please stop saying ‘friends’ like I betrayed you, because I didn’t, okay? It’s not a crime for me to date girls.”

“I know it’s not,” you admit, blinking hard once, trying to clear your vision. “That’s not what I’m saying. I don’t even…I don’t know, okay, I just want answers.”

“Answers about what? If you want to know where I find the cheat codes for Call of Duty, I’ll give you the website.” His attempt at a joke is coupled with a small grin and you want to smile back. But you don’t. No, you move closer, keeping your head level and not breaking eye contact.

“Do you want to tell me why you just stopped talking to me?” 

He sucks in a breath but doesn’t look away, as if he knows it’s important you can see his eyes. “It’s complicated.”

You know you must look pitiful and saying this will only make it worse, but you decide to anyway. “It kinda sucks, you know.” He tilts his head to the side, waiting for you to go on. “Not talking to you. It shouldn’t give me joy, but it does, and when we don’t talk…” You trail off, shrugging like it’s not a big deal even though your heart thumping a faster than usual beat in your chest tells you otherwise.

His eyes burn into yours. “I didn’t mean to make you upset.” You look at him for a moment. “I swear that wasn’t my intention, Skylar.”

“Well it happened, so...” You’re unsure where your attitude came from, and now your nerve is starting to leave too. You awkwardly shuffle your feet and look down, muttering, “Look, your friend is probably gonna go, this was a stupid idea–”

He takes a step forward and is suddenly in your personal space. “Can you please stop calling yourself ‘friend’?”

You find his eyes and swallow. “Isn’t that what I am?” you almost mumble, worried about where this is going but ready to find out, if that makes sense.

He stares for a moment, the silence louder than ever as his gaze drops from your eyes a few inches and quickly hops back up. “Yeah,” he murmurs, voice sounding husky. He clears his throat and moves backward a bit. “I guess Bree and Oliver are the only ones allowed to be more than friends here, huh.”

You can barely hear with your heart threatening to break through your chest. His eyes snap back to yours as you quietly state, “They don’t have to be,” face igniting in a blushing flame. You’re thankful for the lights being off otherwise this moment would be a lot more awkward and less intriguing.

You duck your head and tug at a loose strand of hair around your face. “I’m sorry…I should get back to bed,” you mumble, nearly inaudible but knowing he heard you.

“Yeah, me too,” he says just as quietly, hurriedly looking away and grabbing his cup. He silently drains the rest of his lemonade in the sink and sets the cup beside it, turning around and looking anywhere but at you.

You share one last glance before agreeing to part ways for the night, all without words. You don’t know when you stopped needing to hear his voice to understand what he’s trying to say, but the fire inside your body is telling you you’re reading him right as you head up the stairs. You feel guilty. You’re unsure as to whether he was playing the field or actually has a girlfriend, but either way you feel you’ve overstepped a boundary.

Then again, boundaries never really worked for you two to begin with.

* * *

The universe likes to screw you over. You know that.

But it also likes to time things well.

The time comes when rain is pouring down outside and you’re not happy to have her inside the penthouse. The time comes when you realize you have no clue what her name is, only that you want her to leave. The time comes when Chase swoops in and gathers you, Bree, and Oliver up with minimal protests, shooing you all into the Hyperlift and downwards to Mission Command. The time comes when he brings a live recording of the living room up on the CyberDesk and raises the volume. The time comes when you realize what you are watching.

Kaz is as calm as ever as he tries to quickly clarify the problem without sounding insensitive. You can feel Bree’s eyes on you and are pretty sure she knows where this is going as well. Chase’s eyes are glued to the screen and Oliver’s making a face as he deciphers the direction their conversation is headed. The explanation is missing quite a few details and your heartbeat should be worrying you, but you’re too transfixed on watching the scene in front of you.

Oliver frowns beside you and you’re almost certain Bree and Chase don’t approve of what he’s doing or at the very least  _ how _ , but you stay rooted to your spot and watch. Watch, feeling terrible because of the hope bubbling up in your chest, because of the way your heart’s beating too fast in anticipation.

She asks him why, she wants a reason. Your voice, unused nearly all day, catches in your throat as if you want to stop him. But you don’t. You know you don’t.

And as he whispers your name for an answer, you nearly fall apart at the seams. Whether it is from happiness or sadness or worrisome thoughts, you know you’re falling; you have been for a long time now.

And you’re not sure you want it to stop. ********

**Author's Note:**

> posting this i finally realized i wrote in present tense? i can NEVER do that anymore lmao
> 
> leave comments and kudos!


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